


Firewatch

by aliciaclarkes



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Firewatch au, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Firewatch (Video Game), Modern Setting Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Slow Burn, Wilderness, but she gets real soft for lexa, clarke is a big-headed know-it-all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-10 21:08:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17433539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliciaclarkes/pseuds/aliciaclarkes
Summary: Clarke Griffin, L.A native and mixologist extraordinaire, decides to cut ties with everyone back home and catch a one-way flight to Colorado for the summer, taking a job as a firewatch for Rocky Mountain National Park. She was planning on spending the summer alone, just her and the birds, until she realizes she has been assigned a partner who is 100 miles away in another tower. Their only communication is through walkie-talkies, and Lexa has a hard time staying quiet. But their job is important; this summer is supposed to be the hottest one yet, and wildfires can spark just about anywhere. Clarke soon discovers she may need Lexa more than she thought.





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me [here](https://aliciaclarkes.tumblr.com/)

The path under Clarke’s feet was nearly hidden; in fact, it was so hidden that she was lucky to even find it in the first place. Using her detective skills at the beginning of the journey, she had pushed away some brush to find a fading sign with an arrow pointing straight that read: WATCHTOWER 1.5 MILES. She had groaned at the trek ahead of her, but as she found herself a mile into the forest with only the birds for company, she felt solace in the hike. She indulged in the comfortable silence; she sure as hell didn’t get any back in L.A.  

Shouldering through the clearing, wincing as a branch tangled in her hair, she saw it: the watchtower in the distance, climbing high above the Colorado pines, the sun resting against the roof and dripping gold down the shingles. She grinned to herself, ignoring the ache in her spine from her backpack as she headed towards her home -- well, her home for the summer that is. 

The watchtower was in a clearing, a large area with tall, waving grass lighter than hay. Towering pines formed a circle around her, and Clarke couldn’t help but tip her chin towards the sky, watching hawks circle above her, just barely cresting the treetops; certainly don’t see that in the city. 

Climbing the tower was a feat her thighs weren’t prepared for. Looming above her was easily over a hundred individual steps, and after the first flight she felt the aching burn set ablaze in her muscles, made worse by the weight at her back.  _ Only five more flights to go _ , she thought to herself, white-knuckling the railing as she forced herself to the top. 

The higher she got, the more of the Rockies she could see. The peaks of the mountains had thick layers of snow, despite the summer heat radiating down in heavy waves. The tower itself was situated at the base of the mountain, the land below sloping downwards into sharp drops and rolling hills with wildflowers for grass. The air thinned as she reached the top, taller than giants as birds flew below her feet. She took a deep breath, letting the forest air fill her lungs. She reached into the pocket of her cargo shorts and fished out a brass key, unlocking the door to the tower. 

The inside was incredibly bland, as far as rooms go. The only redeeming quality of the rectangle room was the sheer amount of windows, stretching across every wall and brightening the room. She quietly hoped she could see the stars as she fell asleep. 

She was granted as many amenities as the small space could possibly hold, which wasn’t much. A rusting oven was nestled between two countertops on her left, the single, charred burner in the center barely hanging on. She was given an old Keurig that sat plugged in beside the oven, a small radio taking the other outlet. Lucky for her, the busted up Jeep she rented from the airport was parked just under two miles away, and she brought about three weeks worth of food. A package of bottled water sat on the table in the center of the room; though there was a running faucet, she was advised to only drink from it during emergencies and that water would be provided for her, left at her doorstep every week. 

To her right was a twin-sized cot with a clearly used mattress, the floral design fading like a ghost. Clarke grimaced at the idea of sleeping on that for three months, but she quickly shook it from her mind. She was grateful to be here. She was happy she accepted the job and signed that paperwork. She was excited to get started. The reminders rolled through her head in a continuous cycle, convincing herself that she made the right decision by cutting ties and catching a one-way flight to Colorado. 

On the table next to the waters sat an old-fashioned walkie-talkie with a retractable antenna on the top. The buttons on the side were worn with use, and the device itself was easily the length of half her forearm. It was a bulky thing, all black plastic exterior and simplicity. She cringed at the thought of not using her cellphone for three months. 

Underneath the walkie sat a note, typed instead of handwritten:

_ Clarke,  _

_ Thank you for helping us out this summer! The rangers are excited to have you on our team as a firewatch. This summer is supposed to be a hot one so be on constant lookout. You will be expected to perform daily perimeter checks in the area highlighted on your map.  _

Clarke shouldered her backpack off and unzipped the top pocket, pushing past boxes of crackers and gossip magazines to find a folded map with her name on it. She set it on the table and kept reading. 

_ There was a storm a few days ago that knocked out the power lines connected to all watchtowers in the area. If there is an emergency, it is advised that you radio to your partner and head out of the park back into town to alert authorities.  _

Partner? She didn’t remember anyone mentioning a partner. There was only one bed, after all.

_ There are extra batteries in the drawers, pepper spray on the desk, and a stack of blankets in the chest by the door. It can get cold out here at night so keep bundled up. Happy watching! _

Clarke sighed, picking up her backpack and setting it on the bed, slightly bouncing under the weight. It was probably best to get unpacked as much as she could. She still felt unease in her bones; maybe settling in would relax her. 

Clarke went from being an extroverted bartender in downtown L.A with a masters degree in art history to becoming a recluse in the forests of a strange state, prone to roaring fires and dangerous wildlife. The change in scenery nearly gave her whiplash. 

A crackling sound came from the table just as she was taking her sweatpants from her backpack. It startled her enough to drop her clothes on the floor. A cloud of dust from the impact floated out, almost certainly coating her pajamas in grime. 

“Dammit,” she cursed under her breath, picking the pants off the floor and patting the dust from the fabric. 

“Firewatch 250 come in, over.” A woman’s voice, light and professional, came through the walkie on the table. It sounded calculated, the words practiced and impersonal.  _ That must be the partner, _ Clarke thought to herself before radioing back. 

“Uh,” she started, releasing the button to clear her throat. She hadn’t used a walkie-talkie since she was in grade school. “Yeah. Hi.”

A breathy chuckle from the other end. 

“Well hello. Clarke Griffin, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” 

“How was the walk? Find your way there okay?” 

It felt strange talking to someone she couldn’t see. She couldn’t even create a picture in her head of what the woman might look like. Instead, Clarke stepped out onto the wraparound deck and faced the setting sun, the walkie in her right hand as the left settled against the railing. 

“It was fine. About two miles from the tower.” 

“Oh, so not a long walk. That’s good, easier to get back into town if you need to.” 

Clarke nodded, only to realize that the woman couldn’t see her. She blushed her embarrassment only to realize no one else was around to see her mistake. This whole ‘being alone in the wilderness’ thing was its own pro and con list. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah it’s not bad.” Clarke released the button on the side, waiting for a response. It took a minute or two for the crackling to return, and she lifted the walkie closer to her ear to hear the woman’s response. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. How rude of me. My name is Lexa. I’ve been a firewatch for the Rockies for about four years now.”

“Nice,” Clarke said uninterested. She came here to get away from people, not to get the whole life story from a stranger through an outdated form of communication. 

“My last name is woods. Fitting, right? Only made sense I would choose this career.” Lexa continued to talk, spilling more and more information that went unasked for. 

“Nice,” Clarke repeated, heading back inside. The sun was drooping lower in the sky, trying to hide behind mountain peaks. She was more than ready to get changed and go to bed; her muscles ached from the walk and her eyes felt heavy with sleep, even at this early of an hour. Since she was a bartender, she usually worked the night shift, sleeping during the day and blacking out the sun. The fact that she had to set an alarm at 7:00 AM for her flight and remain awake and active through an entire day made her feel more exhausted than she’d ever felt. 

“Why are you here, Clarke?” 

She had forgotten she was still holding the walkie, her mind drifting and her eyes looking out the window towards the horizon. She rolled her eyes. It was a direct question -- with a name and everything -- so it was probably considered polite to answer. 

“Why are  _ you _ here?” She retorted snapily. She had never been a fan of someone trying to get to know her. She preferred to remain elusive. 

“Ouch,” Lexa laughed. “Well, why do you think?”

Clarke debated her answers in her head. She wasn’t entirely sure why someone would choose to come out here, remain solitary in the wilderness with only the trees as friends. She knew why  _ she _ was doing it, but she doubted Lexa was doing it for the same reasons. 

“I’m guessing...everyone back home got tired of you asking them a bunch of questions.”

“Mmmm, good guess, however wrong it may be. Sorry Clarke, no points for you.” 

Clarke smiled, a small pull of her lips. She shook her head at herself when she felt it. She was supposed to be irritated with this woman, remember? Wanting peace and quiet and all that?

“So are you going to tell me or keep me in suspense?” Clarke asked after a moment. 

A pause, a crackle. She imagined Lexa smiling. The once faceless woman in her mind now had pink lips that stretched across perfect white teeth when she grinned. Maybe she had braces when she was younger, or maybe she was born with a perfect smile. 

“We have all summer, Clarke. We have plenty of time.”

_ Yeah, unfortunately  _ Clarke thought to herself before running her finger along the button again, waiting to respond. She had forgotten they were here all summer. It was more than likely that Lexa would be her only contact for three months. Though it was quick to snap at a stranger -- especially one she couldn’t see -- Clarke realized that the summer would just be that much more unpleasant if she couldn’t get along with the only other person out here; the person assigned as her partner. She groaned and flopped down on her bed, yelping when she landed right on her binoculars that had fallen from her open pack. She reached behind her back and pulled them from underneath her, dropping them to the ground with a thud. She quickly made a reminder for herself to find something to sweep the floors with, even if it meant driving fifteen miles back into town for a broom and dustpan. 

“That’s true,” she replied, rubbing her back and wincing at the bruise starting to form. “In the meantime can I ask you a question?”

“Of course. Ask me anything you want.”

“How many firewatches are there? Like, how big is the park exactly?”

Clarke could almost hear the smile in Lexa’s voice when she began to respond. She rolled her eyes, knowing little miss ‘I’ve been a firewatch for four years’ would probably say something cocky. Clarke was pleasantly surprised when she didn’t. 

“Well, there are about six of us out here, spread across the park. Everyone is paired with the one closest to them. The park itself is about 415 square miles.”

“Pretty big area for only six firewatches,” Clarke teased, turning on her side to look out the window. The power lines connected to the roof of her tower traveled down to the pole sticking out of the ground below, and continued on to the next pole and the next pole in seamless half circles until the wire disappeared from sight entirely. She wondered how far it went. 

“Yeah, unfortunately. We used to have upwards of twenty but with budget cuts we had to reduce our numbers. Makes our job that much more important, right?”

Clarke let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah. Right.”

“Well, I’m going to hit the hay. Remember to be up early tomorrow to start perimeter checks.”

“Wait.” Clarke stopped her, rubbing her free hand behind her neck in tight circles. “How do I, uh…”

“Do perimeter checks?” Lexa finished. She must’ve sensed Clarke’s throat closing at the idea of asking someone for help. Her mother had scolded her for years about her stubbornness, her inability to ask questions and get answers, she needed to figure the world out for herself. 

“Yeah. That.”

“It’s really easy. Just look on the map you got on orientation day and find the area of the park they circled for you. It should be in black or purple marker. That’s the area you’re expected to patrol every day. You really just need to make sure the park is clean for the animals and visitors, so picking up any garbage and making sure no one is doing anything illegal.”

“Illegal?” Clarke asked.  _ What could be illegal out here, and why would people choose a national park as a place to commit crime? _ She didn’t ask anything else. For all she knew, the Rockies could be a prime spot for such activities.  _ What does an L.A native know about the wilderness? _

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t encounter much. I mean, I haven’t. A lot of people try to sneak in and hunt or camp in places other than camping grounds. I once caught a guy _ peeing _ in Fern Lake.”

Clarke laughed out loud, the idea of someone relieving themselves in a national forest protected by the government a hysterical image. The sheer disgust and shock in Lexa’s voice made it funnier; Clarke worked downtown selling drinks to everyone from CEOs to frat boys, so she’s seen it all. It didn’t surprise her as much as it surprised Lexa. 

“Cute laugh,” Lexa commented. Clarke blushed scarlet when she realized she hadn’t taken her hand off the talk button.  _ Damn ancient technology. Why couldn’t firewatches text each other instead? _ She cleared her throat. 

“Thanks. Anyway, what else do I need to look out for?”

“Have you ever been in a national park, Clarke?” 

Clarke bit her lip. She realized if she answered honestly, it wouldn’t sound good. Back home, when she told everyone she was going to Colorado to be a firewatch for three months, they all had a good laugh. It was the joke of the century, until Clarke wasn’t laughing with them. She was serious, and they all gaped at her so wide she thought their jaws had dropped to the very core of the earth. Clarke Griffin? In the woods? Without alcohol and sex? Call the papers, we have a story on our hands. Despite how it sounded, Clarke sighed and answered truthfully, owing Lexa that much for the rudeness she displayed earlier. 

“No, I haven’t. I was raised in L.A and I work as a bartender. Well, did work.”

“Miss Griffin, I’m beside myself. You’ve never explored the great outdoors?” Lexa gasped and feigned shock in her voice. Clarke rolled her eyes. Miss Griffin did have a ring to it though. 

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up. So I’m a city girl. Now answer me, what do I need to look out for tomorrow?” 

“Okay okay okay. All teasing aside, the most common things I see other than hunting and camping are people getting lost from the trails, trying to feed the animals, and taking things.”

“Taking things?”

“Like rocks and branches and flowers. You’re not supposed to take things from the national parks. It disrupts the ecosystem we’re trying to protect.”

Clarke looked at her backpack at the foot of the bed, remembering the smooth worry-stone she found and shoved in the smallest pocket. She made a note to put that back tomorrow morning. 

“Alright. Well, thank you.” She paused, hearing the crackling on the other end but no response. She smiled to herself and felt the sun dip low enough in the sky so that the land was coated in dark purple and orange. 

“Goodnight, Lexa.”

“Goodnight, Clarke.”

Clarke stood from the bed and set her walkie on the counter. She felt a bit exposed, changing her clothes in front of so many windows, until she realized that the animals outside her tower didn’t have any idea what a naked woman was. After she was changed, blonde hair thrown up in a loose bun, she took three blankets from the old oak chest nestled by the door. The letter had been right: it  _ was _ colder at night. 

Climbing into bed, she felt her bones sigh. With the blankets tucked around her and a pillow with fresh sheets settled beneath her head, she felt sleep crawl beneath her skin and rip through her veins, begging and pleading that she close her eyes. 

Though she didn’t have an alarm -- what with keeping her phone on airplane mood, saving battery for emergencies and all that -- she somehow knew the cocktail of excitement and dread she had perfected in her stomach would wake her before the sun. Until then, she turned her head to look out the window by her bed, looking up towards the sky painted deep violet with dusk. 

She could see the stars from her window. 

  
  
  



	2. Day Two

The sun was warm against her face, basking the entire room in a golden haze. A sparrow sat on her porch railing, calling out to the earth below with fervor. Clarke groaned awake, rolling onto her back and throwing her arms over her eyes to block out the light. Once she found herself plunged back into darkness, the sleep returning in a fog, she smiled.  _ That’s better _ , she thought to herself. 

“Good morning, sunshine!” A bubbly voice came through the walkie like a knife in Clarke’s ears. She cursed under her breath, rolling back onto her side and shoving her face into her pillow. If irritation could kill...

“Clarrrrke, it’s time to wake up now.” Lexa’s voice was singsongy, like windchimes in a gentle summer breeze. Clarke still held out a middle finger high and mighty to the invisible woman. 

As much as she despised the idea of getting up, Clarke knew Lexa was right. She had a full agenda today, and after the hike yesterday she already found herself craving the outdoors. With a grumble and a huff that blew the strands of hair from her face, she finally sat up, throwing her legs over the side of the mattress and reaching her arms towards the sky in a cat-like stretch. It felt good, letting her bones pop and shift down her spine and through her shoulders, her muscles warming up for the day. The first stretch in the morning was something she had always looked forward to; that and a giant cup of coffee. But the mornings steadily became something she hated, her eyes filling with hellfire at the first sign of daylight, rolling over and shoving her face back into the mattress until it settled into dusk again. Mornings  _ used _ to be her favorite thing.

She shook her head and pushed herself off the bed, staggering sleepily over to the counter and picking up the walkie. She cleared her throat, hovering a finger over the talk button. 

“Yeah yeah, I’m awake.” Her voice was rough and filled with exhaustion and she winced at the sound. 

“Your morning voice is very sexy, Miss Griffin,” Lexa teased. Clarke imagined her grinning, with a tongue peaking out from between those perfect teeth and pink lips pulled back in delight. 

“Whatever, Woods.”

“Someone isn’t a morning person, I see.”

“You can say that again,” Clarke muttered, half talking to herself. She rubbed out a knot in the back of her neck with her free hand as she started to move around her tower in search of her backpack. 

“Someone isn’t a--”

“I didn’t mean literally.” Clarke threw the walkie onto her bed and reached into her pack, pulling out a white tanktop and stone-washed jean shorts with holes ripped up the thighs. These shorts could fill her tip jar with tens and twenties back home. They could single-handedly pay for a months worth of rent. She smiled as she put them on, feeling lighter than ever before as the weight of their responsibility had been lifted for an entire summer. She felt refreshed and reborn. 

“Have you headed out yet?” 

Clarke rolled her eyes at Lexa’s persistence, tugging on an old baseball cap and throwing her pack over her shoulders. She suddenly yearned for the silence she came out here for. She couldn’t just tell Lexa to fuck off -- oh, how she craved to -- but she also didn’t want to encourage more conversation. The only sound she wanted to hear was that of the early summer breeze ghosting through the pines; the exact opposite of Lexa’s nagging questions and chipper attitude. She looked at her walkie, knowing without a doubt that Lexa was waiting for a reply. Clarke only gritted her teeth and went searching for her shoes by the door. 

With her hiking boots strapped firmly to her feet and her binoculars hanging loose around her neck, she opened the door to her tower and headed down the stairs, leaving her walkie nestled in a pile of blankets. 

 

***

 

The wind whistled through the trees, ancient trunks moaning and creaking. The tall grasses nipping at her calves swayed lightly in a dance only they were fluent in. Birds chirped and sang above her head, moving from tree branch to tree branch with beaks open in a constant slew of songs. Clarke tipped her chin towards the sky, soaking up the sunlight and drinking in the pines looming above her like skyscrapers. The sun was high in the sky, and the watch on Clarke’s left wrist read 1:26 p.m. She had been walking for hours. 

The more she walked, the more she thought about the city. She found herself not missing it in the slightest; she felt like this should worry her, not missing her home. Her parents were there, her friends, her career. She had an apartment on the Westside with old bed sheets for curtains and a fridge filled with pizza boxes and beer bottles. Her king bed stretched across most of her bedroom but she refused to give up comfort for more living space. Her couch was molded into the shape of Raven’s ass; her friend was seen in her living room more often than not, tucked underneath a blanket with the remote in her hand. Clarke smiled at the thought of Raven jabbering from the kitchen as she poured a bowl of cereal, complaining about her coworkers one minute and then gushing about a boy the next. She was comical, that girl, and Clarke wouldn’t trade their friendship for the world. In all honesty, Raven was the only thing her heart truly ached for. 

The steady crunch of dirt and twigs below her feet shook Clarke from her subconscious, dragging her back into reality as she approached a soft meadow overlooking a lake. 

The lake bled into the bottom of the mountains, seeming to stretch on endlessly in a blue infinity. The mountains ahead of her were smaller than the ones she could see from her tower, dry and brown with the summer heat. The edges were jagged, with sharp trees leaning their way up to the peaks. The cliffs were painted orange and maroon, fairly dull compared to the cattails and water lilies that swayed at their feet; the blue water matched seamlessly with the sky.

The meadow that sloped down to the lakeshore was lined by tall pines with fallen needles that coated the earth. Wildflowers blossomed in vivid colors, honeybees and deer flies abundant. Clarke grinned to herself at the slice of heaven she stumbled upon, taking her pack from her shoulders and setting it on the ground. Perimeter check be damned, she wanted to capture this moment. 

She lowered herself to the ground, engulfed by the sea of grass around her. Clarke searched her bag with a tongue between her teeth, running her fingers over everything to find her tattered sketchbook and a pencil with a blunt tip -- wasn’t perfect, but it would do. 

After flipping through a few sketches, landing on a blank page, Clarke leaned against her backpack and stretched her legs out in front of her, crossing her ankles and feeling her shoelaces rub against her shin. She tugged her cap lower on her head, blocking out the sunlight from her eyes and getting to work. 

With gentle strokes, she tugged fading lines from side to side, giving everything a place before she started on the details. She couldn’t remember the last time she was able to draw anything, especially as uninterrupted as she was now. It was relaxing, finding her past self with every crosshatch in the mountain peaks and every ripple in the water. 

The wind blew through strands of hair falling from her loose bun, still disheveled with sleep and tucked under her hat. Her arms were starting to ache and she sighed knowing she would have a sunburn tomorrow morning. Still, she remained settled amongst the meadow, drowning in the earth that swallowed her whole. She felt happy here, a feeling only a month ago she thought she may never feel again. 

Her eyes started to grow tired, her vision straining, her eyelids twitching to stay awake. She was almost done with her sketch, and though her stubbornness was a force to be reckoned with, her exhaustion fought valiantly. She closed her eyes, laying in a meadow with her sketchbook in her lap, pencil in her hand. 

 

***

 

_ She couldn’t get her key in the door. Los Angeles wasn’t cold very often, but on January nights the city might as well freeze. Her fingers were shaking in the bitter air, too warm blooded for her own good. She kept missing the lock.  _

_ Finally, the key slid in. She nearly shouted her victory, but she figured shouting at the entrance of her apartment complex at one in the morning wasn’t the best idea. Instead, she let loose a grin and turned the key, pushing open the door.  _

_ Clarke’s apartment was on the third floor, a quaint little one-bedroom that overlooked the city. It gouged her wallet every month but it was worth it for the view. Right after college, she slapped her name on the lease and burst through the front door with arms wide, ready to accept it for all it could be. That night, she slept on a blow-up mattress she bought at a thrift shop two blocks over with only a thin sweatshirt to keep her warm.  _

_ She climbed the stairs, feeling her icicle fingers melt with the warmth. The third floor was silent, though it usually was. The neighbor to the left of her was a little old lady by the name of Mrs. Jones; barely capping five feet tall and had more cats than the animal shelter. She was sweet but rigid in her ways. Her and Clarke feuded constantly, baring teeth with claws extended. Mrs. Jones preferred silence over everything, holding it holier than gospel and praising nights that are quiet past 8:00 p.m. When Clarke was fresh out of college and ripe with chaotic energy, that didn’t sit too well with her. Now, Clarke’s usually gone by eight and comes home from a shift by the time Mrs. Jones wakes up. They’ve gotten along ever since.  _

_ The neighbor to her right was a young girl, about Clarke’s age. She had long blonde hair that stretched to the middle of her spine, the color fading into chestnut the farther it went. She had warm eyes that radiated sunshine and a smile that reached her ears, with pearly teeth and a slight curve in her upper lip. She was tall, towering over Clarke by at least a few inches, though she held herself daintily and small in every way. Her name was displayed across her mailbox alongside her address:  _ Echo Apt. 423 _. She always smiled at Clarke when they ran into each other in the hallway.  _

_ Clarke shot a glance towards Echo’s door with a smile before putting her key into the lock of her apartment, twisting it and pushing open the door.  _

_ The kitchen was empty; there were two glasses in the sink. The living room was empty; there was a pair of unfamiliar shoes by the coffee table. A throw blanket was taken from the back of the couch and had fallen onto the floor. Clarke walked into the living room, picking up the blanket and setting it back on the couch. Underneath the blanket, peeking out from under the couch, sat Finn’s wallet.  _ Finn’s home _ , she thought to herself with a smile. He must be asleep.  _

_ She moved down the hallway. The closer she got to the bedroom, the more red she saw.  _

_ Red burned hellish in her eyes. Hades was jealous of the wrath that lit through Clarke’s bones like a gasoline fire. She felt hot lava drip down her spine and her ears rang with white noise. The apartment was lit ablaze with flickering flames, her vision throbbing deep orange and pulsing ruby. She felt her chest squeeze, the air ripped from her lungs like a punishment. Her fingers trembled with the heat that coursed her veins, fists clenching with the anger and shoulders sagging with the hurt. No forest fire could outburn the flames that licked at her skin that night.  _

 

***

 

Clarke woke with a start, gasping for air as she sat up in a panic. Her nightmare was one often revisited, more of a memory than a dream. Countless times it was reimagined, from every angle and every possibility, and yet it never failed to make her forehead clammy with sweat. 

Once her eyes could focus, she realized the sun was setting. Though not entirely out of eyeshot, the orange peaks in front of her now presented indigo, the water black as night. She sighed, rubbing her eyes and catching her breath before closing her sketchbook and tucking it back into her pack. She stood on shaking legs still numbed with sleep -- especially in such an uncomfortable position -- and pulled her map and compass from her pocket. With limited light, she squinted at the map between her hands, trying to find where she was. She searched the entire ring around her tower, highlighted in deep purple marker, though she found no lake, no meadow, and certainly no mountain range. Her heart clenched in brief panic. 

She was lost. 

A deep breath was forced into her lungs. She had to calm her nerves before she thought of a plan. 

“Well, if I came from over there...then I...I must be…” she trailed off, tracing lines in her map from the tower to any place that resembled a lake. Every tree looked the same, every flower, every path. She knew the longer she stood, the harder it would be to find her way back. Dusk was tapping on her shoulder like a petulant child. Her vision was threatened and she knew she needed to move quickly. 

Clarke set off in one direction, deciding on a path that she swore looked familiar. She had no idea how long she would have to walk. Her compass wavered in her shaking hand, the arrow moving back and forth between North and East. 

It was starting to get colder. 

Breaths were getting shorter, laced with twinges of panic and heavy exhaustion. Her feet ached in her boots and her knees trembled. It was getting harder and harder to see and Clarke craved a flashlight or a lantern or  _ something _ to strike a ring of an all-saving halo around her. She kicked herself for her foolishness. She had wandered off the map, ignored her duties, fallen asleep in a strange meadow, and left all semblance of rescue behind in a tower she couldn’t remember her way back to. 

The feeling of recognition sank into her bones. She stopped at the feet of trees that casted shadows above her and looked around. Something inside of her -- perhaps her city-girl tenacity, perhaps her unyielding stubbornness -- took hold of her internal wayfinder, pulling her like a magnet in the direction of a hidden path she swore she remembered from somewhere deep in her subconscious. 

She continued her trek, hiking with ardor and joints that burned her devotion. Walking through city streets every night gave her experience with the ache; weaving through lackadaisical tourists and bustling storefronts had also given her an undeniable brashness that curled sharp around her edges. Her surroundings back home had turned her bold and lioness, bared teeth and all. 

Her mother had always chastised her stubbornness; something Clarke couldn’t quite shake. She had an attitude bigger than her body with an unfettered drive to know everything. She had always tried to break leash, wanting to experience the world with a mind that was entirely her own. 

Clarke was the golden child with a vehement tongue and a quick wit to match; fortunately, it was this attitude that led to her parting a tangle of bushes to find her tower, standing mighty with a warm light from inside, guiding her home. Just where she left it. 

She couldn’t help the giddy smile that crept across her lips as she climbed the steps. Her backpack was growing heavy on her shoulders, holding the sky instead of hiking gear. She stopped halfway up to catch her breath, looking out into the distance. 

Dozens of miles away, high up on a mountain range, sat a little square building. A flickering light came from inside. The moon kissed the rooftop and the stars danced on the porch.  _ Must be Lexa’s tower _ , she thought as she heaved a breath and continued her climb. 

Once she reached the door, she felt her muscles collapse and ripple beneath her skin. Her pack was thrown on the ground instantaneously with her shoes off her feet in record time. Clarke peeled off layer after layer until she stood only in her sports bra and shorts that suddenly felt too loose around her waist. It wasn’t until her stomach growled that she realized she hadn’t eaten all day. 

There wasn’t much to eat, she quickly found. She had the boxed items she had brought and a few cans lined the shelves in the cabinets just above the counter. At this point, her stomach craved anything as it cried its emptiness. She rolled her eyes at her own body’s impatience and settled on a sleeve of crackers and a granola bar. She turned on the radio and extended the antenna as far as it could go -- even though the sound still popped and crackled like an old phonograph -- before turning the different knobs, trying to find a channel that could broadcast to middle-of-nowhere Colorado. She found a single station that came through relatively clear, considering the antiquity of the stereo. Ironically enough, the Oldies station proved to stand the test of wilderness, fighting its way through the trees and the mountains to croon Bob Dylan and The Kinks. 

Clarke walked around her tower, humming low to the music as she nibbled on a cracker, swaying slightly as she moved. A static sound came from the table in the center (presumably from her walkie since The Temptations were still going strong through her speakers). 

She quickly turned off the radio and picked up her walkie with a cracker held between her teeth as she waited for another sound. A voice came through in an instant. It was the voice that was feminine yet hardened, the voice that teased with giggles barely held back, the voice that clicked the ‘K’ in Clarke’s name while maintaining a sophisticated lilt in every word. However, this time, the voice was burning. 

“Tower 250 come in, over.” There was a sigh, a ghost of frustration. “I don’t know why I’m still doing this. You would think ten hours would be too much.”

_ Ten hours _ ? Clarke thought.  _ She’s been trying to call me for ten hours _ ? 

Clarke couldn’t remember the last time someone cared about her for longer than ten seconds. She picked up her walkie. 

“Yeah hi I’m here, I’m here.”

“Jesus Christ Clarke! I’ve been worried sick about you! Where have you been? Why didn’t you bring your walkie? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where did you go?”

Unfortunately, Clarke had to wait until she was finished spewing questions to answer. As long as Lexa’s finger sat comfortably on that talk button, Clarke couldn’t get a word in. She rolled her eyes so hard she thought they would get stuck there. Though it was easy to scoff at Lexa’s unnecessary anguish, it was harder to brush off the tight feeling that wrapped around her heart at the girl’s obvious worry. 

Finally, Lexa settled, albeit out of breath. 

“Are you finished?” Clarke asked, hoping the flustered girl on the other end got everything purged from her system. The silence that met her was encouragement to continue. 

“Okay. Good. First of all, I’m not hurt, I just got lost. I’m an idiot and I forgot my flashlight so I had to find my way back in the dark. Second, I found this...meadow thing and I was drawing and I fell asleep. I’m sorry I worried you, I just...I wasn’t thinking. Really Lex, I’m sorry.” 

The nickname slipped through her lips far too fast. She wasn’t entirely sure why it came into her head at all. Lexa still annoyed her, what with her constant jabbering and all. She still made Clarke bristle at the lack of silence. Yet somehow, as the name flowed off her tongue, it felt surprisingly comfortable; as if she had been saying it for years. Still, comfortable with it or not, she chastised herself for growing soft with the girl that irritated her to no end. She chalked it up to being exhausted from the hike and hoped Lexa wouldn’t notice. 

She should’ve known that the slip couldn’t hide;  _ attentive as she is maddening _ , Clarke mused. 

“Lex…” Lexa paused, as if in deep thought. Clarke could almost hear her soft breathing on the other end. “I like that. Suits me, don’t you think? Short and sweet.”

Clarke smiled, thrilled at the topic change. She was prepared to get the scolding of a lifetime just minutes ago. 

She picked up her walkie and snagged a blanket from her cot, wrapping it around her shoulders and stepping out onto the porch. She felt the steady breeze nip at the skin left exposed, a shiver rolling down her spine. She leaned on the railing and looked out towards the tower in the distance. Lexa’s light was still on, a glowing ember in the darkness. Stars littered the sky overhead, each twinkling speck making giants and dogs and lions that roared. The moon was swollen with dusk and her light painted the earth. Clarke couldn’t help but tip her chin towards the night, trailing her eyes across constellations flung from the stratosphere and shooting stars that raced each other over the clouds. She had always been a sucker for the night sky, melting at the cosmos that stretched above her. She drew her gaze back towards the light on the mountain. 

“So,” she smirked, tucking the blanket tighter around her near-shivering frame. “You’re short?”

“What?”

“You said short and sweet fits you. And you’re definitely not sweet, so…”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I’ve had plenty of people tell me I’m sweet.” 

Clarke suppressed a grin, biting her lip and shaking her head. Lexa’s tone was nothing less than wounded, her ego obviously perturbed. She briefly wondered if Lexa looked as flustered as she sounded. 

“Oh yeah?” Clarke challenged with a cocked brow. 

“Yeah. Tooth-rottingly sweet.”

“Well, ‘rottingly’ isn’t a word, and you never answered my question.”

Lexa huffed and this time Clarke made sure she took her finger off the talk button before laughing out loud, the sound echoing through the silent trees. 

“Agree to disagree. And no, I’m not short, actually. I’m a bit on the tall side. I was cursed with an attraction to heels, too. Unfortunate, really.”

A vision -- however uninvited it may have been -- sketched its way across Clarke’s cranial sketchbook. The figure in her mind, the figure with candied lips and perfect teeth, now had legs that continued for miles. Tan skin wrapped around toned muscle; slender but firm, strong but feminine. The calves were accentuated only by ruby heels strapped to her feet. 

Clarke suddenly loved the color red. 

“What about you?” a voice interrupted. Clarke’s vision evaporated as quickly as it had come. She shook her head into focus. 

“I-uh...no. No, I’m not tall. Average height I would say.”

“Is anything about you average, Miss Griffin?”

Clarke refused to beam at the name, but it took a force stronger than she imagined to keep it down. 

“You make it sound like I’m so interesting. You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know that you lived in L.A. I know that you were a bartender downtown in one of the busiest cities of America. I know that you must’ve cut ties with everyone back home to fly out to Colorado to be a firewatch for a summer -- a job you’ve never done before, might I add.”

“I see your point. But I promise you, I’m more boring than you think.”

“Boring Clarke, huh? I’d love to meet her. Maybe she can tell me a little bit more about why you’re out here with no job experience...she also might be able to tell me why you left your walkie in your tower on the first day on the job.” 

Clarke could almost see the hand on the hip, the raised brow, the disapproving look. She chuckled under her breath. 

“Maybe one of these days. But for now, Boring Clarke is tired from getting lost and hiking well over ten miles both ways.” She heard Lexa’s smile in a giggle that rang in her ears. She wasn’t sure why the sound stayed, almost like her brain had recorded it for later, to play over and over again at will. 

“Alright alright, you’re off the hook for now. Remember your walkie tomorrow then,” Lexa scolded playfully. 

“Scout’s honor.”

“Goodnight, Boring Clarke.”

A soft smile graced Clarke’s features. Something fluttered deep in her chest. 

“Goodnight, Lex.”

In the distance, in the great expanse of mountaintops coated in white from the gleaming moon, a tower melted into the night as Lexa turned the light off. 

Clarke’s finger scratched over the talk button before retracting the antenna and turning in for the night. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For everyone had nice things to say, thank you so much. Your support is so appreciated especially so early on.   
> I never claimed that this story was mine. I was sent an anonymous prompt and I made the decision as an artist to dabble in a new concept while paying homage to the creators of the source. I hope I can do both the story and these characters justice. I hoped you enjoyed this chapter.   
> As always, leave me comments and kudos, and come scream with me [here](https://aliciaclarkes.tumblr.com//)


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